


full service

by cathedralhearts, torigates, ukiyo91



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Service Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:05:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathedralhearts/pseuds/cathedralhearts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukiyo91/pseuds/ukiyo91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just likes the warm curl in his gut that he gets as Sid smiles at him when he does something right. It makes things a little bit easier, or hurries things along a little so they can get to the fun stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	full service

\---

It starts out with small things during practice. Sid complains under his breath that nothing in his gym bag is packed the right way and Geno leans over to find his sweat-proof watch underneath the extra towel he always packs for emergencies. 

“I get for you,” Geno tells him twenty minutes later when Sid gets persnickety about why he doesn’t have that towel nearby when he gets a little too sweaty working with the weights. 

Practice is hard work and no little amount of Sid calling out bad form. “Geno, when I’m at the net you can pass,” is his critique, but it’s delivered with a smile and Geno nudges him in the side. 

Cool down consists of Sid staring grumpily at the stationary bike that Geno was just using and asking him to please wipe it down, because that’s just unsanitary. Geno feels Sid’s gaze at his back as he grabs the wipe and hides a grin. 

Without being asked he also goes back to Sid’s pack to bring out the soap he likes, because Sid never wants to use the generic brand the rink provides. He delivers it to Sid with a hot look in his eye because the way Sid looks, flushed and pleased with Geno anticipates his needs, is so very satisfying. 

 

Nealsy used to chirp him about how far he’d go to please Sid, and one night honest to God took him out for a steak just to ask why. 

“What are you doing, man? You’re so whipped, it isn’t even funny. This is an intervention.”

Geno raised an eyebrow, looking toward Paulie, who was buttering a roll and shaking his head, muttering under his breath about glass houses. Nealsy’s cheeks were bulging from his steak, and if he weren’t such a fucking disaster, Geno might’ve been a little offended.

“Intervention for what, Lazy? I’m not do anything.” Geno shrugged instead. Nealsy spluttered around his food and started waving his arms and babbling, but Geno tuned him out and asked Paulie about tips for landscaping in his backyard. 

Who is he to deny Sid anything, especially when it’s not like it’s _hard_? 

He just likes the warm curl in his gut that he gets as Sid smiles at him when he does something right. It makes things a little bit easier, or hurries things along a little so they can get to the fun stuff. 

So Geno might have ulterior motives to knowing where Sid’s car keys, favourite jelly and stashes of lube are at all times. 

 

They’re sitting on the couch watching an episode of _House Hunters_. Sid’s been rolling his head back and forth for several straight minutes now, and Geno’s been watching him out of the corner of his eye. 

Every few seconds, Sid will shift backwards on the couch, crack his neck and then settle, only to repeat the cycle a few moments later. After watching him go through this approximately twenty times, Geno huffs out a long sigh. 

“Sid,” he says. “Come here, what you doing?” 

Sid groans. “There’s a crick in my neck, it’s been bothering me.” 

“So? Why you not say? Or get massage?” 

Sid rolls his eyes. “I got a massage yesterday, it didn’t help.” There’s a clear whine in his voice, and he’s clearly huffy with his own body for not behaving properly. Geno smothers a smile at the thought. 

“Come here,” he says, shifting so his back is resting against the couch armrest, his leg pressed up along the cushions. It creates a V between his legs for Sid to settle himself. He goes with only a minimal amount of fussing. “Bitch, bitch,” Geno says once Sid is pressed up against him. Sid’s body is a warm weight next to him, and Geno takes a moment to wrap his arms around Sid’s middle and hug him tight. He presses a few open mouth kisses to the back of Sid’s neck, dragging his lips over the skin just below Sid’s hairline. 

Sid huffs and squirms. 

“So impatient,” Geno says, giving Sid another squeeze. But he unwraps his arms from around Sid’s torso, and brings them up to his shoulders. He digs both thumbs into the meaty part of Sid’s shoulder blade, where it meets his neck. Sid groans and tips his head back against Geno’s shoulders. 

They stay together like that, Geno working his hands over Sid’s neck and shoulders, seeking out the knots and pressing into them with the pads of his thumbs. Sid groans and arches when he hits a particularly sore spot, before relaxing as the muscles are forced to relax. The longer Geno works him over, the more Sid relaxes into him, his body going soft and compliant. 

Geno likes Sid like this, loves him loose and easy. He moves his hands away from Sid’s shoulders, swooping down along his arms, massaging the bicep, before trailing his fingertips over his inner forearms. He takes one of Sid’s hands in both of his, massaging the palm, digging in with his fingernails, and drawing broad circles with his thumb. Once he’s convinced he’s given one hand a satisfactory amount of attention, he moves to the other, repeating the process. That done, he strokes back up Sid’s arms with a firm press of his palms, before sliding down over his chest and stomach. 

Sid’s breathing heavy against him, and Geno presses a quick kiss to the side of Sid’s neck. 

“Geno,” Sid sighs. 

“I got you,” Geno says. He strokes down over Sid’s thick thighs, rubbing back and forth, before going back up his chest. He makes sure to give Sid’s crotch--now visibly hard in his sweats--a wide berth. He tweaks both of Sid’s nipples, and Sid gasps. 

Geno repeats this process over and over again, until Sid’s a panting, writhing mess above him. His groans are near continuous, and whenever he says Geno’s name, there’s more than a hint of a whine. Geno grins and bites the back of Sid’s neck, hard. He sucks on the spot, and laves his tongue over it, until it’s sure to leave a mark. That done, he finally reaches down into Sid’s sweats and wraps his hand around Sid’s dick, stroking firm from the base to the tip. He curls his palm over the head, spreading the wetness around. He strokes Sid under his sweatpants, reaching down to cup his balls, and roll them gently in his hand. 

Sid groans and presses further back into Geno’s body. “Geno,” he groans. “Oh fuck, more, gimme more.” 

“Shh,” Geno whispers, but he still slides the elastic waistband of Sid’s sweatpants down and under his balls, presenting his entire package to Geno. “Yes,” he murmurs in Sid’s ear. “Look so good like this.” He presses another kiss to Sid’s neck, and bites down on his earlobe. 

Sid groans. 

Geno strokes Sid’s cock with a tight grip and a twist of his wrist at the top. He traces the vein underneath with his thumb, pressing on the underside of the crown. Sid thrashes against him, and Geno wraps his free hand around Sid’s torso holding him still. 

“Be a good boy,” he says. 

Sid groans long, and Geno begins to stroke him in earnest, nothing but Sid’s own precome slicking the way. When Sid comes it’s with a shout, and Geno jacks him through it, until Sid’s squirming and trying to get away. Geno runs his fingers through the mess Sid made on his stomach and chest, bringing his hand up to his mouth and sucking his fingers clean. 

“Come on,” Sid says. “Let’s go upstairs, I want you to fuck me.” 

“Never happy,” Geno says. “Even when you just come.” 

Sid rolls his eyes and stands, tucking himself back into his pants. He holds out a hand to Geno, who takes it after a moment. Sid pulls him to his feet, and the two of them make their way to the bedroom.

Fucking Sid is always an exercise in give and take. In most cases it’s Sid giving directions and taking Geno’s dick. Tonight’s no different, as Sid fussily tucks some throw pillows underneath his hips and scooches around until he’s achieved optimum comfort. Geno eyes the drying mess of come on his stomach and recalls the last time Sid had him lick him clean, how the visceral taste of Sid underneath his tongue was heightened by Sid’s stuttered moans of oversensitized bliss. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Sid commands in a sharp whine of a voice. Geno chuckles and obliges, slicking up two fingers and rubbing them around his hole, waiting until Sid’s pleased sigh transforms into impatient direction. 

“Just get them in me, Geno,” is the curt demand, and Geno obeys. Sid’s taken his cock enough times now that they don’t need to take so much time over preparation. Geno’s fingers slide in like they’re home. 

“Wait.” Geno freezes as Sid struggles for a moment, reaching behind himself to adjust one of the pillows that was slipping away. Geno admires the scrunched look on his face, as if he’s been personally let down by his makeshift throne of fluffiness. 

“Okay, you can go again. But do it slower and deeper.” Geno nods at his instruction and sets about thoroughly destroying Sid’s composure, putting his body weight into the thrust of his hand, loving the way Sid bares his neck, his torso arching in pleasure. Geno likes feeling like he’s Sid’s to command. He likes to imagine servicing Sid like this in the locker room between periods, when Sid’s wound up tight with frustration and adrenaline, and Geno’s on his knees wringing out every last ounce of stress. 

Geno doesn’t get to decide when Sid can take more. It’s always Sid who edges too close too desperate, his powerful lower body guiding Geno’s movements as he pushes back against his fingers. That’s Geno’s cue to add a third, and then to tempt Sid with the barest suggestion of a fourth, which drives him crazy. 

“God, Geno, do it now.” Sid’s face is sweaty and pink and Geno feels his cock throb in anticipation. Fucking Sid always feels like a reward, like Sid’s a prince and Geno’s his loyal knight who gets to worship him, reveling in the chance to give him pleasure. 

He slicks himself up, hovering over Sid to watch his face. Sensing his presence, Sid tilts his face up minutely, beckoning for a kiss. He always makes Geno work for it, so that Geno has to rest his weight on his arms as he bends over to cover his mouth with his, letting Sid suck on his tongue to mirror the action of Geno gently pushing himself into his body. The heat, the overwhelming sense of being exactly where he needs to be consumes him. 

Sid smiles, pants out a “Thank you,” which arouses Geno like nothing else. He’s the one who should be thanking Sid, who should be showing his gratefulness in every careful thrust, every movement of his body oriented towards the man below him. 

“Sid, fuck,” Geno gasps out, and Sid groans and angles his hips just right, trying to catch Geno’s cock as he lines up to push in. Sometimes Sid likes the tease but not tonight, it seems. 

“Geno, now,” Sid snaps, his fingers tugging on Geno’s side, slipping against his skin. Geno snorts - Sidney being demanding is hilarious, especially when they’re fucking. But he wants to please Sid tonight, and lines himself up, pushing inside with one long, slow thrust.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Sid hiccoughs, his back arching, tilting up and grunting as Geno slides home. _Fuck yeah_ , Geno thinks, and starts to move, in and out, as slow as he can manage. 

“More,” Sid says after a while of it, of Geno measuring his thrusts between heartbeats, fingers digging into the mattress on either side of Sid’s head. 

“So bossy,” Geno mutters, ignoring the dirty look Sid gives him, his face flushed and sweaty. 

“You love it,” Sid counters with a smile, one that morphs into a pleased moan as Geno fucks in particularly sharply. 

“Maybe. Still,” Geno says, and presses a little closer, pushing Sid’s legs up his arms so he can get a better thrust going. It works, and Sid’s moans don’t stop, punched out of him as Geno works him over.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of how fucking gorgeous Sid looks when he’s being done like this, his lips slick and red, his body so responsive, greedy fingers reaching down to circle his dick and tug. 

Geno watches as Sid squirms a little, his other hand working its way past to rub where they meet, his dick moving in and out of Sid, faster and faster. Sid’s got a headboard, something Geno’s found amusing for years, but the sound of it banging against the wall is like music right now, a filthy soundtrack to what they’re doing. 

“Oh god,” Sid says, high and thready, as he tries to press a finger down and _in_. Geno knocks his hand away.

“Don’t be greedy, my dick enough,” he says. Sid snaps something Geno doesn’t quite catch, because that familiar coiling in his gut is building, the heat spreading across his lower back, his balls tightening. 

“Gonna come, Sid,” he says a little mournful. It’s been a while, busy between games and being too exhausted to do much more than sloppy handjobs or rubbing off against each other, and Geno’s stamina - legendary as it is, okay - is a little worn thin tonight. Sid looks like he’s going to say something shitty, so Geno stops moving, until Sid scrabbles at his chest, punching it.

“Fuck, okay, just-- don’t stop, _please_ ,” Sid begs. Geno nods and starts moving again, getting his knees underneath him and putting Sid’s ankles up on his shoulders. Sid gets his hand back around his dick, wet with lube now, and starts tugging himself frantically along with Geno’s thrusts.

“Sid,” he grunts, and Sid nods, one leg slipping off Geno’s shoulder as Sid comes, Geno following him over. It never ceases to amaze him how good it feels to empty inside Sid, joining together for something as intimate and base as this. 

Geno manages to pull out and move the few inches to the right he needs so he can flop down face first, breathing heavily. Sid isn’t moving either, and Geno turns his face to look at him.

Sid’s regarding him with a soft, warm expression, at odds with how much he’s panting, and the sweat coating his face. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” he says. Geno’s mouth goes a little dry, and he nods. They’ve said it to each other, a few times now, but it’s still new enough that it just… it still _gets_ him. 

“I know I’m a pain, and like… demanding about stuff. I really shouldn’t be.” Sid looks shamefaced, and nobody should feel bad after the kind of amazing sex they just had. 

So Geno shuffles back over, and kisses him, deep and wet. “I’m take care of you forever, okay? No feeling bad. You perfect, and I great, and we best together. Not say dumb shit like this.”

Sid’s still pink, but he kisses Geno, pulling him in and humming happily against his mouth.

“Thattaway, Geno,” he says as Geno props his face up with an elbow to stare down at Sid. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “You should definitely go make us some pancakes. We need to eat.”

Geno sighs. Sid just grins at him, huge and wide. 

“Okay. I’m make buttermilk pancakes though. All the fat!” Geno cackles as he gets up, rolling into the shower. Sid doesn’t even bother protesting, feet slapping against the tile as he jogs in to shove past Geno, muscling into the huge shower first and turning on both heads.

“As long as you use the chocolate chips, I don’t even _care_.” Sid reels him in for another kiss. Geno will do whatever it takes to keep him happy. Even if he does get mad when Geno uses the wrong packet of flour for the pancakes.


End file.
